Deadly Communications (5 page)

She nodded again.

Maybe the parents were right. Improving communication skills happened in baby steps—minute, teeny-tiny baby steps.

Ella was interacting with people again. So that was definite improvement.

Together they looked through the old family photos, practicing names.

Maven pointed at a picture of Sandra. “Who’s that?’

Ella looked down for several long moments. Finally, she looked back and shook her head.

Maven’s thumb moved to her chin while her fingers wiggled. The sign of mother. After years of working with deaf children, her hands sometimes had a mind of their own. Without realizing it, she simply signed the word along with voicing it. “Mom.”

Ella imitated the sign, and then repeated, “Mom.”

“Good, Ella.” Maven pointed again. “Who is that?”

Ella signed the word for mother.

Maven’s heart gave a pitter-patter. “Oh, my goodness, Ella. You are right. That is your mom. Great job.”

Ella giggled and made the sign again.

Maven added, “Mom.”

Ella repeated the sign and added the word.

They moved on to dad. In less than fifteen minutes, Maven was going between pictures of both parents and Ella was able to give the right answer each time using their sign names and the words.

Why hadn’t she thought of using sign language before? Maven lifted her hand and high-fived Ella. “Want to learn a few more signs?”

Ella nodded.

Maven moved through the room, touching an object, giving the sign, then the word.

Ella followed and did the same.

Maven tried to keep her excitement down. After ten minutes, she sat back down with Ella and the photo album.

After proving she could sign and say both mom and dad, Maven pointed to a picture of Ella with her brothers. “Who is that?’

Ella stared at it, squeezed her eyes shut, and shook her head. When she opened her eyes, she stared at the picture, and then closed the photo album.

“That’s OK. We’ll work on some more signs later. You’re probably tired.”

Ella’s blue eyes met Maven’s. She acted as if she wanted to say something, but was silent. She didn’t sign, either.

Maven left the house with a smile on her face and a real sense of satisfaction. Of course, she might come back tomorrow and Ella wouldn’t be able to sign or say the words.

Only time would tell if it was a real breakthrough.

9

Maven opened her front door.

“Hiya, girlfriend.” Lizzie grinned. “Stopped by for a chat if that’s OK with you.”

“Of course.” Maven opened the door wider. “Come on in. I was just about to cook lunch. Want something?”

“You know me. I never turn down food.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Speaking of food, you’re looking good these days. Lost a few pounds?”

“Maybe a little. I’ve been getting out more. I do a power walk in the morning before I go see Ella, and then most evenings Paul and I take another walk.”

“Paul and you?” Lizzie arched a perfectly shaped brow.

“We’re just friends and neighbors.” Maven walked into the kitchen. “I already told you that.”

“Really? Then you won’t mind if I ask him out?”

Surprised at the twinge of jealousy, Maven shook her head. “Of course not. But I warn you. Paul’s an old-fashioned kind of guy. You might want to wait for him to call you.”

“Ah, that sounds like you don’t want me to ask him.” Lizzie sat on a stool as she rolled her eyes. “And besides, I did wait. He didn’t call. All he had to do was ask you for my number.”

Maven smiled at her friend, refusing to be drawn into an argument.

“So, how’s Ella?” Lizzie grinned, flitting to the next subject without rancor.

“Definitely improving. Between signs and a few words here and there, she’s starting to communicate again. It’s been quite exciting, actually.” She dumped the soup into a sauce pan and then put the pan on the stove.

“I’ll bet. And how are you feeling?”

Maven got out bowls and then hugged Lizzie. “Much better. Thanks to you. You were right. I was in a funk. But I’m improving every day.”

‘What do you mean?”

Maven pointed at her eye. “Look, I can open and shut my eye again. And I’ve stopped using eye drops because I’m producing tears, now.”

“What a blessing, Maven. That’s great news.”

Maven walked back to the stove. “Want some bread with your soup?”

“Not necessary. So, have you gone back to church yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So, you’re still mad at God?”

Maven stirred the soup and then carried it to the counter. “It’s not that. I just…I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like God’s so far away from me.”

“You know what the Bible says about that. Draw near to Him and He will draw near you. It’s your turn to do the drawing. But don’t worry. He’s right there waiting for you.”

Maven ladled soup in their bowls. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” Lizzie placed her hands palm up on the counter. “Let’s pray.”

10

Ella sat on her loveseat with her feet folded Indian-style. Her index finger moved to her chest. ME. Then it moved to the side of her head and wiggled as it moved away. DREAM. Then both hands moved to her torso area and shook. SCARY.

“Me dream scary?” Maven sat in the chair closest to Ella.

“Yes.” This time Ella used her voice.

“OK, let’s try it again—in English.” Maven signed and spoke. “I…have…scary…dreams.”

Ella repeated the words along with the signs. “I have scary dreams.” After a few trials, she said the sentence without prompting from Maven. Ella was making progress now that Maven was teaching her sign language.

“What happens in the dream?”

Ella took both index fingers and slashed one down over the other. CAN’T
Can’t
. She repeated the sign.
Can’t. Can’t. Can’t
.

Maven put her hands over Ella’s gently. “OK, look at me, Ella.”

Ella’s hands relaxed, and her gaze moved to Maven’s.

“Let me show you a few more signs.” Maven touched her forehead with her fingertips. “This is the sign for ‘know.’”

They repeated it several times. “Now, I’ll show you a little trick. This works for lots of signs, not just know. When you sign
know
, and then add this motion. It means don’t know.” After putting her hand on her forehead, she took it away in a downward slashing movement. After practicing several times, Maven asked, “Is that what you mean? You have a nightmare, but you don’t know the right words so you can tell me?”

She shook her head and signed
can’t
again.

“Do you mean you can’t remember?” Maven signed and spoke the words.

Ella nodded vigorously, and then signed
can’t remember
.

“Do you remember anything?”

Ella hooked her index finger around her thumb and did the sign for
run
.

“So, you’re running in your dream, but that’s all you can remember.”

“Yes. No.” Ella shook her head and then signed
scary
again.

“So, you’re running and it’s scary. Well, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Me worry. Monster
.

“Dreams and nightmares are like that, sometimes. And they don’t usually mean anything important, anyway. Just our subconscious getting rid of some of the gobbledygook in our brains.”

Ella nodded but didn’t smile. She was obviously still worried about the nightmares.

“I am so proud of you, Ella. You are doing a great job.”

Ella smiled and pointed at Maven. “Yes. You. Good job.” Her words were paired with the signs.

Maven laughed. “Is that a compliment?”

“Yes.” Ella took a deep breath.



“She has scary dreams? And that worries you why?” Paul relaxed on Maven’s sofa.

“I don’t know. I guess the fact that she’s so agitated by them. Something seems to be really scaring her.”

“With all she’s been through, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t having nightmares. Besides, she’s still almost a teenage girl. And we all know that teenage girls love to be drama queens.”

“Not Ella.”

“So you say.”

“So I know. At least not the Ella I know. What she was like before the accident, I have no idea. But this Ella is serious.”

“I think you might be a drama queen, too. You’re looking for trouble where there is none.”

“I suppose that’s possible. Because I just don’t have enough drama in my own life.” She rolled her eyes. “Right?”

Paul smiled at her sarcasm. “If it really bothers you, why not have her parents hire a counselor of some sort? It’s not like they haven’t hired all sorts of professionals to help her. What’s one more?”

“Well, her communication is improving but not enough to talk with a stranger at this point.”

“At least she has you.”

“But I’m not a trained counselor.”

“Maybe not, but you care. Sometimes, that’s more important than a job title. So, Christmas is right around the corner. What are your plans?”

“Same as last year.” Her husband had loved everything Christmas—the decorating, the cookies, the Christmas plays at church. It hurt too much to celebrate. “Nothing.”

“I know. Holidays are the worst, aren’t they?”

“I’m glad someone understands.”

“I do, but still, if you want to come to Christmas Eve services with me that would be great.”

11

Maven tossed and turned in bed. Sleep wasn’t coming easy. She couldn’t get the haunted look in Ella’s eyes out of her mind.

Those who couldn’t communicate were often taken advantage of—in the most terrible of ways. Over the years, more than one of her deaf children had been victims of different types of abuse, boys and girls. Predators seemed to understand that they couldn’t tell. That the children didn’t have any power to stop the harm inflicted.

Punching her pillow down, Maven twisted and turned.

Could someone be abusing Ella? Was that what the nightmares were about? Maven knew she was grasping at straws. There was no way anyone could be abusing Ella. She was locked safely in that house, almost as if she were a prisoner. Her parents were way too protective to let that happen.

Unless…it was her family? But that was highly improbable. The Deckers appeared to be the perfect family—if there was such a thing. She dismissed the idea as ludicrous.

If the nightmares weren’t a result of Ella’s present situation, it could be something in her past. Of course, the accident was the first thing that came to mind. And in all probability, that was what was triggering the nightmares. Not much of a mystery there.

For the first time, Maven wondered exactly how Ella had been struck by a truck. She knew it had been a pedestrian—vehicle accident. Curiosity grabbed hold. She sat up in bed and turned on the light.

Once at the computer, she typed in Ella Decker. Because of their social standing in the community, the accident had made news. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for.

The accident had happened in Charlottesville, Virginia. Ella had been a student at the University of Virginia. One of the articles mentioned their swim program was one of the best in the country.

That must have been why Ella chose it. She’d been a contender for the Olympics before the accident.

As Maven moved from news story to news story, the facts solidified.

Ella had been hit by a semi-truck traveling through the area. According to the driver, Ella ran into the middle of the road, and he’d swerved to miss her, but not quite fast enough. The swerve had saved Ella’s life.

Maven stared at the computer monitor as she clicked her nails on the wood desk.

According to the one article, the accident had happened after 11 PM. The pictures in the paper showed trees on both sides of the highway. Why had Ella been in the middle of the highway in the middle of the night? It didn’t make sense.

Ella had been in a coma for a few weeks and then in a medically-necessary coma for several more to allow for healing. During this time, she’d been transferred to a closer clinic. The transfer must have cost a fortune, but from the generous amount the Deckers paid Maven, money was obviously not an issue.

Ella had been in the hospital for almost three months before being released to a rehab facility. After rehab, she’d come home. She’d been home for almost ten months. What an excruciating journey. She showed signs of physical improvement, as well as her personality emerging, now that she could express her own ideas once again.

God had spared Ella’s life and that was a blessing for the Decker family.

Why hadn’t God spared her husband’s life? Or let her keep her job as a speech pathologist? Her job was the only reason she got up in the morning. Tears dripped from her eyes. She missed her husband so.

God obviously didn’t listen to her.

And she was so tired of feeling sorry for herself. She brushed away the tears.

God was probably tired of her pity party. After all, He’d provided another job for her. One that paid very well, even if it was temporary.

Maybe, Paul and Lizzie were right about her being angry at God. Shame and sorrow mixed together. Was she the sort of believer who only remained faithful when things were going her way? Maybe it was time to start counting her blessings instead of her problems. Maybe, it was time to praise God during the trials as well as the good times. More than that, maybe it was time to trust God.

12

Staring in the mirror, Maven smiled. Her smiled looked the same as the day before. Lopsided. “OK, God, I’m trusting You. I love You and I know You love me and You promised to work things out for those who love You. I believe You. I guess if You want me to have a lopsided smile, then so be it.” Hope and peace coursed through her.

She’d forgotten God’s promises for a while, but not any longer. The darkness, the anger, and the bitterness still hovered, but it wasn’t as close as it had been yesterday.

Maven buttoned up her coat and tightened the scarf around her neck. Fall had given way to winter and in Ohio that meant wind, cold, and snow all at the same time.